


Precisely

by sleepymccoy



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: First Kiss, Flirty Fighting, Hurt!Bones, M/M, Relationship Negotiation, Three Dimensional Chess, Worried Spock, i dont think its gore i think its just descriptions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 04:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13286988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymccoy/pseuds/sleepymccoy
Summary: A handful of snippets of Spock and McCoy's relationship, including their first kiss, a chess game that Bones heckles, mildly jealous Spock, and hurt!Bones. I basically wanted to try and write them in a way that was exactly how they behave in canon cos I find I do tend to make them softer and more considerate than they are in tos. So one of these chapters includes dialog directly from the show, which I did to see if it fits w my characterisation and hey! Not exactly, but pretty close. I enjoyed this, the scenes are sweet





	1. Precisely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy has noticed something off about Spock lately, there's nothing tangible different about his behaviour, but he is even more reserved than ever before. When a post mission check up reveals a mild arrhythmia McCoy starts to form a theory.

“Spock,” McCoy said softly, just loud enough for Spock to hear him. He'd waited until the last moment, his every nerve alight with trepidation. Spock had already begun to stand up to leave the conference table, likely already thinking about whatever scientific shenanigans he was handling on the bridge. He paused and sat back down as the last few people trickled out of the room. 

 

“Yes, Doctor?” Spock asked, facing him.

 

McCoy turned his chair towards Spock, making it clear where his attention was. Spock watched him impassively, he had always been difficult to read but McCoy was sure he had become more stone-faced in the last few months than normal. 

 

McCoy briefly considered backing out. He had spent the staff meeting wondering if his theory was worth bringing up. Whether or not he was right the consequences would be extreme. He could simply back out and say something else. He had plenty of issues to gripe about with Spock, he wouldn't struggle to cover this requested conversation up smoothly. Without really making the decision he spoke, finding that he said what he came here to say. “I considered an alternate cause for your mild arrhythmia the other day,” McCoy suggested. He heard his tone, softer than was normal between them, out of place in their conversations until at least recently. They had always been professional, even terse with each other but lately it was friendlier. Bordering on flirtatious. He had found more and more that he and Spock spent their evenings together, sharing dinner and debating sometimes but also just talking, murmuring. Spock never letting an emotion slip through his facade, more of a stickler about that than he had ever been in McCoy's memory.

 

Spock raised a polite eyebrow, still sitting very straight. “What is that?” He asked.

 

McCoy had been quite rightly worried when Spock's post mission check revealed an irregular heart rate. Of course the Vulcan patter of his heart meant that McCoy couldn't be entirely sure the issue was a medical problem, and upon reflection McCoy had begun to think that the matter may not be entirely Vulcan either.

 

McCoy reached his hand out, his movement slow and intentional, leaving Spock plenty of opportunity to avoid his touch. Spock didn't dodge him, in fact he moved slightly so that the hand resting on the table was more easily reached. McCoy turned Spock's hand over so it was palm up and lightly rested his fingertips on Spock's. That Spock let him encouraged McCoy. He moved his hand forward, his fingers trailing along Spock's. He knew it was unlikely but he believed that he could feel every groove of their skin catch as he moved. 

 

McCoy looked from their hands to Spock's face. Spock was staring at him, his eyes unblinking and wet, his mouth slightly open. When McCoy's fingers reached Spock's wrist he stopped, pressing down. Spock closed his mouth, swallowing. McCoy could feel his pulse, he could feel the speed and excitement that the uncontrollable part of Spock's body showed. That diagnosed mild arrhythmia revealed to actually be a suppressed emotion, directly caused by McCoy's touch. Regardless, Spock's expression was as cold as ever.

 

“There it is,” McCoy muttered.

 

Spock's chest moved with his breath, something McCoy rarely noticed. Spock shifted his hand back. McCoy thought he was pulling away but too soon he stopped, their fingers still touching, the lengths of their digits laying against each other. If McCoy pressed down his fingers would slip between Spock's, but he was not sure what cultural implications that could have with a Vulcan so, despite the temptation otherwise, he let his hand rest lightly on Spock's. 

 

“You are correct,” Spock said after a worryingly long pause. McCoy studied him for a moment but he couldn't get a read. Spock was real good at keeping his face impassive, McCoy had no idea how many emotions he was showing but he was sure it was a lot. While he had no certainty, he did trust that Spock was forgiving, so at the worst he could only cause an awkward moment between colleagues. He leaned across the distance, staying in his chair, and kissed Spock lightly on his lips. 

 

He kept his hands respectful, one still resting lightly on Spock's while he insisted to himself that his other stay on his own leg, giving Spock every freedom to remove himself from the situation if he wanted. Spock clearly had no such desire and kissed him back. Their kiss was short and chaste, their mouths remaining closed. McCoy leaned away sooner than he really wanted, his heart pounding. Spock had closed his eyes and McCoy watched as he opened them slowly, his long eyelashes briefly became the only thing McCoy cared about. 

 

“Do we need to discuss this?” McCoy asked quietly.

 

Spock shook his head. “Not at length.”

 

McCoy leaned across again, his fingers entangling with Spock's as his other hand cupped his jawline, drawing them close. He kissed him, more forcefully than before, but still soft, still slow. 

 

Spock's hand that was not involved in McCoy's moved and rested on McCoy's knee, leaning a fair amount of weight on him as his body tipped forward, kissing McCoy back with a quiet passion that McCoy hadn't expected. As they kissed Spock's hand moved up McCoy's body, not feeling him exactly but leaning on him in different places, first his knee, then thigh, then against his torso and chest. Each shift induced a redoubling of their kiss, Spock was communicating as best he could without allowing obscene emotion that he wanted this, wanted McCoy. 

 

McCoy was happy to accept the message in whatever form Spock was sending it in. He finished the kiss quietly, making his breaths longer and pecks shorter until they were just sitting on the edge of their seats face to face with each other in the empty conference room. 

 

“Exclusive?” McCoy asked.

 

Spock opened his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, and McCoy felt his stomach drop. If that was something he got to see after every kiss he wasn't going to be able to play it cool in this relationship. “Yes,” Spock replied. He swallowed, blinking slowly. McCoy was sure he was suppressing an emotion but he had no idea what. “Private?” Spock asked. 

 

“Oh yes,” McCoy said. Spock's shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly in relief. “We should tell people,” McCoy qualified, “But no need to make a song and dance of it.”

 

Spock smirked and McCoy about laughed, he hadn't seen an expression on that man's face for at least two months. Now that he had an idea of how Spock felt about him he figured he'd been covering up an unwanted affection for his ship's doctor. It was a relief to see something slip through. “Precisely,” Spock said.

 

McCoy smiled and removed the distance between them, kissing him again. Spock kissed him back for a few moments but too soon he pressed against his chest, pushing McCoy away gently. “I must return to my station,” Spock said. 

 

McCoy sighed and nodded. Spock stood up and straightened his shirt, tugging it down sharply. He looked at McCoy for a beat then began to walk away, not saying anything.

 

McCoy turned to watch him leave, concerned that he might actually go without a word. Spock never said anything unless he thought it was necessary (or witty enough to make up for being unnecessary) but McCoy wanted some interaction now. They'd just made out and agreed to date, he wasn't feeling the most confident about the solidity of their dynamic. 

 

“We still on for dinner tonight?” McCoy said, the words tumbling out of his mouth quickly as Spock reached the door. 

 

Spock looked back at him and nodded once. “Of course,” he said simply, then he left.

 

Not exactly a conversation, but at least a promise to see him later and that was enough for McCoy.  


	2. Fanciful and Frustrating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day of smarming up to delegates, McCoy is keen to just sit and watch Spock and Jim play their chess. However, Jim has invited one of the delegates along. So McCoy has to make sure he doesn't get too unprofessional, but he is off duty so he pokes some fun at Spock

“How long do these games last?” Delegate Richards asked. She and McCoy had been sitting on the couch watching the needlessly complicated chess game in front of them for some time now. McCoy shrugged at her, unable to tell. There were more pieces on the table than the equipment but that didn't necessarily mean anything with how these two played.

 

McCoy was glad Spock and Jim had this game to calm their minds after a day, but it did drag on sometimes. This particular day had been a busy and formal one and McCoy would've loved to really relax but Jim had elected to invite Richards along after she'd expressed interest in three dimensional chess.

 

Her interest had been fairly short lived once Spock had begun explaining the myriad of rules, his somewhat monotonous explanation continuing as Richards’ eyes glazed over. McCoy had enjoyed making some light fun of Spock, mainly to ensure that Richards didn't feel a fool for not following his descriptions. As they had sat on the couch together McCoy had quietly admitted that he didn't know the rules either, but he enjoyed the atmosphere. 

 

Richards wasn't unpleasant company, if McCoy hadn't spent the day being polite to a collection of people who out-ranked him she’d’ve made for a good chat, but as it was he just wanted to read the slightly amusing retraction of the latest essay Doctor Harax had written (He’d mixed up some cultures and thought he'd managed a medical breakthrough that turned out to be penicillin again, the mistake hadn't been caught until Harax had already excitedly published his results). So McCoy and Richards had sat mostly in silence as the game continued, occasionally peppered with a wry observation from McCoy concerning the retraction. 

 

Jim let out a frustrated sigh. McCoy glanced up and saw him do a nothing move, shifting his bishop across one square. To all observation he looked like he had no plan, like he was giving up. 

 

Spock leaned in, suspiciously studying the bishops placement. Jim looked over at McCoy and grinned, throwing him a wink. 

 

“Jim’ll win soon,” McCoy muttered to Richards, effectively answering her question. 

 

Spock moved his queen down a level. “You don’t know that, Doctor,” he said, leaning away from the table as Jim glared at the board.

 

McCoy smirked. “Don’t I?” He asked.

 

“You have no understanding of the rules of this game,” Spock said, his attention trailing off as Jim made his move. He returned his focus to the board, his eyes scanning the whole thing. He'd been caught off guard by Jim's acting in the past and had been taking each game more seriously since losing seven moves in a month ago.

 

“And yet I know that you’re about to lose,” McCoy said lightly, as if he didn't know how annoyed his comments would be making Spock. Richards glanced at him, not worried exactly, but perhaps disconcerted by the undertone.

 

“You’re wrong,” Spock said mildly, looking closely at one of Jim's pawns.

 

“Want to know how I know?” McCoy saud with a grin. Jim glanced at him, his expression betraying nothing. 

 

Spock still hadn't made his move, but he leaned away from the board sharply, glaring at McCoy. “No, you do not understand this game, your reasoning will be fanciful and frustrating,” he snapped. 

 

Beside him he heard Richards chuckle, but she didn't give the game up. McCoy raised his hands in surrender, his grin negating any peacekeeping affect his submission may have had. Spock had admitted to frustration, that kind of thing meant that he was in a more emotionally accepting mood than usual: McCoy may get some cuddling tonight.

 

“Make your move,” Jim said, the words affected by the laugh in his throat. Spock frowned at McCoy one more time then returned his gaze to the table, quickly moving his knight to take Jim's pawn.

 

McCoy didn't have a chance to lose interest before Jim won five moves later. Jim looked at Spock, smiling almost apologetically. Spock just sighed and nodded, accepting the loss gracefully.

 

“How did you know?” Spock asked as he began to tidy up.

 

“Jim winked at me,” McCoy said cheerfully.

 

Spock stopped clearing and looked at McCoy's shit eating grin. He turned his eyes to Jim and McCoy almost felt bad for revealing the truth, Spock looked like a disappointed mother.

 

Jim just raised an eyebrow, he'd been given this look many times before. “Bones, you keep this up and he’s gonna mutiny,” Jim said once Spock looked away again.

 

“He’ll leave me before he leaves you, Jim,” McCoy said. He closed down his Padd, ready for supper. They'd had a formal dinner earlier but McCoy always hated the fancy food. He wanted some damn bolognese pasta.

 

Spock closed the chess box, having finished packing everything away. “That is accurate,” he said, smirking. 

 

McCoy laughed out loud, sincerely enjoying the vague threat to break up. Spock's smirk got smaller, shifting into a soft smile at the sound of McCoy's laughter. He put the box of chess pieces away quickly, clearing the table. 

 

“Is that not how it should be?” Richards asked the room. The three men all looked at her in sync. “I mean, with the command structure of Starfleet, wouldn’t that be the norm?”

 

McCoy smirked. Spock would be in a good mood with that, he loved it when McCoy behaved enough that strangers didn't guess their relationship. 

 

“Spock and Bones are dating,” Jim said mercifully once he realised neither Spock nor McCoy were going to volunteer the information. 

 

All due credit to Richards, she didn't react beyond raising her eyebrows in mild surprise. “Oh,” she said and nodded politely at them. She seemed to want to follow it up with something but couldn't find the words. 

 

McCoy smiled at her kindly and changed the topic for her. “Would you like a drink, dear? I'm having a bourbon.” 

 

She smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you, a glass of Chardonnay,” she said. 

 

“Jim?” 

 

“Chardonnay sounds good,” Jim said, “I'll get that pasta ready.”

 

“Fucking thank you, I'm damn hungry,” McCoy grumbled. He walked off towards the replicator to get their drinks. “Spock, you want your weird orange evening shit?”

 

“Yes Leonard, my weird orange evening shit would be appreciated.” McCoy looked over at Spock in surprise, he was glaring at McCoy with a raised eyebrow. He must be in a good mood to joke like that. McCoy threw him a wink and went back to instructing the replicator. 

 

He passed Jim and Richards their wine first, she had joined Jim in the kitchen and McCoy overheard her exclaiming at the amount of cheese he was grating. He picked up his and Spock's drinks and sat down in Jim's seat across the small chess table from Spock and passed him his tea. “Enjoy your sheekuya na’na,” McCoy said, fairly confident he'd butchered the pronunciation. He got a smile from Spock regardless. 

 

McCoy relaxed in his seat, kicking his legs out. Spock hooked one of his ankles around McCoy's, not mucking around with him but just settling into some light physical contact while they waited for Jim to emerge with food. 


	3. Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rewrite of a scene in By Any Other Name where the crew are trying to make a small collection of visiting aliens more human and create conflict. Features Jealous!Spock

“I can’t tell if we’re getting anywhere,” Jim said, his frustration paramount. “And I haven't seen Scotty in hours.”

 

“We haven’t seen Tomar either,” McCoy pointed out quickly, desperately entertained by the knowledge that Scotty was off getting drunker than Cooter Brown on shift. “But my man Hanar is getting more irritable by the minute,” he chuckled. The man’s angry quip at him earlier had been the highlight of McCoy’s day so far. “I’m giving him shots of Formazine, that should have him climbing the walls.” He grinned up at Jim and Spock proudly.

 

Spock ignored McCoy’s gleeful smile, still standing with his arms crossed. “Rojan has exhibited symptoms of jealousy,” he said simply. McCoy knew Spock wasn’t enjoying this mission, being forced to manipulate someone’s emotions bothered him for a few reasons, not the least of which being that Spock didn’t like to recognise how much he’d learnt about human emotions since joining Starfleet. He prefered to play dumb - or play Vulcan - in that area.

 

Just as Spock finished talking the door opened and Kelinda walked in. She walked right up to Jim, ignoring both Spock and McCoy completely. “I would like to speak with you, Captain,” she said formally.

 

She was a beauty. Jim thought so too, McCoy saw him take a moment to collect himself. “Doctor,” Spock said from behind McCoy. McCoy found he was still watching her, enjoying the sight he was given. “I’m due for another injection of Stokaline,” Spock said. 

 

McCoy hummed, having absolutely not listened to Spock. Spock tapped him on the shoulder twice, fairly solidly, and McCoy turned. He liked how Spock touched him these days, a year ago - before they began dating - Spock wouldn’t touch him for any reason less than imminent death. He was still professional on shift, but far more physical. “Stokaline,” Spock repeated pointedly. 

 

McCoy glanced back at the woman and realised what Spock was doing. “Oh,” he muttered to himself. He stood up, ignoring Jim’s amused and exasperated expression, and went to walk away. Before he left his manners came back to him and he said, “You will pardon us.” Jim and Kalinda both ignored him. Spock had already left the room, so he quickly followed. 

 

Spock was halfway down the corridor, walking swiftly towards the turbolift. McCoy sighed and jogged to catch up. He'd clearly annoyed Spock with his misplaced attentions, not that he thought Spock had a leg to stand on here given how often McCoy caught him checking Jim out. He wouldn't begrudge him that, Jim wasn't his type but he recognised that he was worth looking at. He caught up easily, Spock wasn’t trying too hard to avoid him, and matched his speed. “It’s not like I-” McCoy started to say.

 

“It is no matter,” Spock interrupted. 

 

They were quiet for a moment. Spock was definitely annoyed, which wasn’t like him. “I like you better,” McCoy grumbled. Spock didn’t mind his flirting with the odd person, but he was having a bad time dealing with Rojan and was likely considering jealousy more than he ever would on a normal day. McCoy could have picked his timing better, but it was rare to have someone that beautiful and that willing to show her entire back (that item of clothing made no sense to McCoy, he was sure he would be on the receiving end of a logical smackdown regarding that garment from Spock tonight). McCoy wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the teeth.

 

“I am not attempting to compete for your affections, Doctor,” Spock said dismissively. He pressed the button to call the turbolift to him.

 

“Good,” McCoy said, almost defensively. He took a moment to talk himself down, he wasn’t keen to fight Spock, especially when Spock was oddly vulnerable. “You already won that competition,” he said. It was a weak effort, completely corny, the kind of thing Spock didn’t respond too well to. But it was what he’d said and with any luck it passed on the message he wanted, that is to say that no matter who McCoy may check out, he wanted Spock more.

 

Spock looked at him for a bit, his expression inscrutable, then changed the topic. “I must go and tell Rojan that Kalinda and the Captain are together,” he said. 

 

McCoy smiled at him. Always on the job. “Snitch,” McCoy smirked. 

 

Spock frowned at him. “It is my job.” The turbo lift arrived and Spock stepped in.

 

“Well, hurry back, Jim’ll likely need backup,” McCoy said. Before the door shut he added, “And I like looking at you!”

 

Spock gave him an exasperated look, but McCoy saw it shift to amusement before the doors shut. Spock didn’t slip like that, he wanted McCoy to know he was entertained, and McCoy would admit to more than a little relief at that. 


	4. Bed Bound, But Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones has been badly hurt by some ill informed but essentially well meaning native aliens and Spock hasn't had a chance to check on him since his injury until now

“How is his leg?” McCoy opened his eyes at the sound of Spock’s voice. He looked around but couldn’t see him. He caught some movement out of the corner of his eye and spied the silhouettes of Spock and Nurse Chapel behind the makeshift hospital curtain she’d managed to construct out of mission pack bedding. 

 

“We’ve blocked all the nerves to his leg and have stopped him from being able to move it, but we don’t want to fix him up permanently until we can do some deep scans, they sliced his leg very finely in a good many places,” Chapel said. 

 

“I am aware, will he heal?” Spock said. He wasn’t being rude, but he was terse. Spock had had to watch as the local inhabitants had sliced McCoy’s leg like fine ham, insisting it wasn’t hurting him. McCoy had heard Spock pulling out every diplomatic and negotiation trick he could to convince the aliens that their method of scientific research was considered torture and to please, please stop. At some point McCoy had stopped hearing him, he hadn’t passed out because he remembered the pain and panic continuing, but he must have dissociated at some point because Spock had clearly kept talking, kept arguing and promising and educating and finally succeeding and entering the room and simply carrying McCoy out. At that point McCoy had passed out, the relief of knowing Spock had him and he was safe enough to tip him over that line. 

 

McCoy had been told since that Spock had stayed behind to follow through on the promises that had freed McCoy. Apparently the local’s insistence on this being a scientific exploration was sincere and they were willing to exchange their live guinea pig for the font of knowledge that Spock offered. So while McCoy’s leg had been salvaged and put on hold, Spock had sat with these aliens and explained the details of human circulatory and nervous systems as best he could. 

 

“He should be ok,” Chapel said softly. And she wasn’t lying. His leg was fucked up to a degree that was too minute for the away mission equipment, but they had fixed up his major veins so he was getting blood flow through his leg, he wasn’t losing any more blood, he couldn’t move his leg and make it worse and, most importantly, he couldn’t feel it. They'd do a complete surgery on him back on the ship and he'd be walking around by the end of the week, likely sooner.

 

“Christine, quit boring the man, he’s busy,” McCoy called. 

 

Spock stepped back and into McCoy’s field of vision. “In fact I am unoccupied right now,” he said mildly. McCoy raised his eyebrows, exaggerating his surprise. Spock tipped his head to the side, accepting that it was unlikely. “Jim insisted I take a break,” Spock explained. 

 

McCoy smirked. “And you listened?”

 

Spock moved around the hanging sheet, kneeling by McCoy’s side. “I wished to confirm your well being,” he said simply. 

 

McCoy smiled. “My being is bed bound, but well,” he said. He reached out and stroked Spock’s hair. He wouldn’t usually be so forward in public, but he’d had a fairly awful day and could always blame it on the amount of pain medication and oxygen he’d been given. But Spock let him, even leant into the touch. “You’re off duty then?” McCoy muttered. 

 

“Yes,” Spock said. 

 

McCoy ran his hand down to Spock’s jawline. “Well, I definitely am, c’mere and give me a kiss,” he said quietly.

 

Spock touched the back of McCoy’s hand lightly, his fingers softly stroking across McCoy’s knuckles. Then he stood up suddenly, leaving McCoy’s hand behind. McCoy sighed, he’d hoped for a kiss but they were still in a fairly unstable situation and Spock needed to focus on work. They were camped out by a cliff face with an invalided CMO, waiting for Scotty to return with the Enterprise and beam them out. It was essentially on Spock to keep the locals entertained until the ship returns lest they want to get back to their initial torturing ways.

 

But Spock didn’t leave, instead he pulled the sheet over to rest on a long stick Jim had driven into the ground to give McCoy some privacy. Once the sheet was in place Spock returned, kneeling quickly and immediately kissing McCoy deeply. 

 

He didn't stay long, not more than two minutes, but while he was there he was intense, pouring himself into the kiss in a way McCoy rarely got to experience. McCoy kissed him back, pulling him close, so glad and so grateful that Spock was on his team. 

 

“Thanks for the rescue,” McCoy muttered as Spock pulled away. 

 

Spock hummed doubtfully, leaning back on his heels. “Had I read the situation better  from the start you would be drastically less injured,” he said quietly. “I clearly need to further develop my diplomatic skills.”

 

McCoy smiled sadly at him, stroking his hair flat. “I don't love the motivation, but I'd be shocked if you listen to me on that,” he said. “Now get back to work.”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow at him, entertained by the instruction. He caught McCoy's hand, still stroking his hair, and kissed him firmly on his palm before leaving without looking back. He'd left the sheet up, so McCoy quickly took the opportunity to fall asleep.


End file.
